


Accidentally In Love

by HooksLovelySwan (ChainOfPaperClips)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Elsa (OUAT), F/M, Kristanna, Liam Jones - Freeform, Lieutenant Killian Jones, frozen jewel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-05-27 01:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6263335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChainOfPaperClips/pseuds/HooksLovelySwan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elsa of Arendelle is finally settling into her role as queen, and everything is beginning to go quite smoothly until her advisor delivers the unpleasant news that she is betrothed to the prince of another kingdom. Determined to break the contract at any means, Elsa does the unthinkable and enlists Captain Liam Jones to fake a courtship with her in order to get out of it. But as usual...things don't quite go as planned!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is an old Frozen Jewel fic that I started writing quite some time ago, before depression and writer's block forced me to go on hiatus for a while. When I first started writing them in my fic, Until I Met You, Liam and Elsa were a couple that I put together on a whim. But then as I wrote it, I started to really like it. And two of my readers, Clockadile and ActualSwanPrincess, over on Tumblr, also really enjoyed it. Eventually, some other people, such as my friend Anja started to write it into their fics, too, and then suddenly Liam X Elsa was its own fanon ship and we needed a name! Eventually, through a bunch of Tumblr discussion, we arrived at "Frozen Jewel," and it's been a joy to see them pop up together as a couple in some of the fics ever since!

**Prologue**

Elsa watched her last supplicant of the afternoon leave the throne room, and slowly released a soft sigh of relief. It wasn’t that she _minded_ hearing the petitions of her people, per se…she just hadn’t ever been prepared for how monotonous it could be sometimes. Subjects such as crop rotation and updating the tax code, while necessary to the successful day-to-day running of Arendelle, made her want to yawn and throw someone in the dungeon. In that order.

“Your Majesty?” the voice of her elderly chief-advisor inquired as she rose from the throne and prepared to remove her crown. “Just a moment, if you please. There’s one more matter to discuss. It’s of a rather personal nature.”

“If you want some time off to go visit with your grandchildren, Leif, all you have to do is ask, not petition me in court.”

“Your Majesty misunderstands. I meant a personal matter regarding herself.”

Elsa blinked. “Me?”

“Yes, ah, you see…there’s a matter I’ve been meaning to bring to your attention, and it simply cannot wait any longer.” He produced a small scroll from within his overcoat. “Your parents prepared this document shortly before their journey to Corona.” He hesitated before holding it out to her. “They would have discussed it with you themselves, I’m certain, after they returned, but…” He trailed off, his expression sad and apologetic.

She accepted the scroll with reluctance, uncertain what she might feel when she perused this document, penned by her parents prior to their deaths. The isolation they had forced upon her for most of her life, though perhaps well-meaning, had only perpetuated Elsa’s fears about her magic, making it more difficult to control, and nearly damaged her relationship with Anna beyond the ability to repair. She had been a prisoner, not just in the palace, or to the expectation that she would take the throne in spite of her magic, but of herself. Every feeling she had ever longed to express was instead quelled and chained inside her heart, where it screamed to be free; resentment mingled with the desire to please her parents, until they snarled together past the point of unraveling. And it was this conflict of emotions, the love mixed with resentment, that haunted her even now, years after their death.

Unrolling the scroll, Elsa scanned the document with weary eyes, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of all the time she had lost with her sister; time she would never get back. “Wait a minute,” she said sharply as the word “betrothed” caught her eye. She read further, focusing all of her attention on the document, “My parents arranged a marriage for me?”

“Yes, they–”

“Next month!” Elsa dropped the scroll in shock. It hit the tiled floor and rolled closed with a soft snap of paper. “Leif! I am not marrying a complete stranger, and I am certainly not doing it next month!”

“Your Majesty, the document bears the signatures and seal of your parents; legally, that’s binding–”

“Well legally, I can change it, can’t I?” she argued. “I’m the Queen.”

“Yes, but–”

“Good! Problem solved, then,” she said with a rush of relief. “Honestly, Leif, I could have fixed this ages ago, if you had brought it to my attention sooner.”

“It’s not that simple, Your Majesty,” Leif said unhappily. “One cannot simply break the betrothal contract without the aid of diplomats and lawyers; they could charge us with breach of contract.”

“So we’ll send the diplomats and lawyers.”

“Even so, negotiations will take time, Your Majesty.”

She watched him through narrowed eyes. “What are you saying? We won’t be able to get out of the contract in time?”

“I’m saying that the Frosts are undoubtedly sailing here as we speak. We’ll have to receive them.”

Elsa sat down hard on the edge of her throne. She swallowed with effort. “You’re telling me that they are on their way to Arendelle for a wedding, and I have to break the news to them when they arrive that the wedding is off?”

“Err, yes, Your Majesty.”

Clenching her fists together, she banged one of them down on the armrest of her throne. “And you couldn’t see fit to bring this to my attention sooner, so that a diplomatic disaster could be avoided?” she seethed. “What, are trying to trap me into this, Leif?”

“No, no, Your Majesty!” he squeaked. “Of course not! I would never!”

“Then why didn’t you bring it up sooner?”

“There never seemed to be a good time,” he spluttered helplessly. “There was the funeral, your coronation, the incident where you set a blizzard on the kingdom, the adjustment to being queen, Anna’s wedding–” He ticked the items off on his fingers.

“Yes, yes, but this is the sort of thing you make time for, Leif!” she exclaimed. “It’s my life, do you understand? _Mine!_ I didn’t get it back, only to surrender it to someone else again!”

“Your Majesty–”

“I’ll meet with the Frosts, Leif, and I’ll be as polite as humanly possible, but I am not getting married, do you understand me?”

“But your heir–”

“Will be one of Anna and Kristoff’s children. And if they don’t produce any, Rapunzel and Flynn’s younger daughter will do. End of discussion.” Leif’s shoulders stooped in weary defeat. “Oh, and one more thing,” she spoke up. “You’re dismissed from your post.” He blanched visibly at her words, and Elsa felt a stab of guilt. “For a month,” she amended. “It seems a fitting punishment, considering.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” He bowed meekly and left the throne room, a relieved expression on his face.

Elsa drummed her fingers on the arm of the throne. She would speak with her lawyers first thing in the morning. Let the Frosts come if they must. There had to be a way to extricate herself from the marriage without causing a diplomatic disaster. And if there wasn’t…she would simply have to make herself the most impossible, undesirable mate for their son until they demanded release from the contract themselves.

Elsa stood up from her throne and retrieved the forgotten scroll from the floor, then flicked her hand toward the doors at the opposite end of the room. An icy wind swept through the chamber, pushing the doors open with a bang. She smiled to herself.

And she had the perfect means at her disposal to do so.


	2. Chapter One

Elsa sat upon her throne, her stomach in knots. She had received word over breakfast that the Frosts’ ship had docked in the harbor just before dawn this morning. Her appetite had disappeared after hearing the news, and she had sent back her tray of breakfast largely untouched, except for the half-consumed cup of tea. Now, of course, she regretted not finishing the soothing beverage. It might have helped to settle her stomach in some measure.

She felt a light pressure on one of her gloved hands, and she looked over at her sister. Although it was Elsa’s habit to take a retinue of guards to greet her visitors as they disembarked the ship, she had elected to forego the ritual this morning. That it was bitterly cold outside and Elsa thought Anna shouldn’t be exposed to it in her condition was only part of the reason Elsa had decided to meet with her guests in the more formal setting of the throne room. After giving the matter some thought, Elsa had determined that it was important to distance herself and strike a more formal tone from the very beginning in her dealings with the Frosts. She had absolutely no intention whatsoever of going through with the marriage her parents had arranged for her, and keeping the Frosts and their son at arm’s length seemed like the wisest course of action. It might even make the breaking of the contract easier, if they believed Elsa to be as cold and indifferent as her ice magic.

“Elsa, are you certain about this?” Anna whispered. “Maybe you should meet Jack first and think about it. You might change your mind.”

“What’s to think about ?” she countered with a hiss. “The entire idea is absurd. Marriage isn’t for me. It’s never been a thought in my head!”

“That’s because you spent most of your life stuck alone in your room, worried about losing control of your magic and hurting people. Of _course_ it never occurred to you.”

She decided to ignore that. “Anna, I’m very happy for you and Kristoff, really I am. But some of us just aren’t looking for a relationship.”

“All right,” she agreed, tossing a fiery braid over her shoulder, “that’s true. But what if a relationship finds _you_ , Elsa? Have you ever thought about that?”

Trumpets blared before she could retort. Elsa tried to pay attention as the court heralds formally announced the Frosts, but she felt irritated and impatient. Why did everyone seem to think that she needed to get married to be happy? Even Anna, the one person she had thought would understand, wondered if Elsa might not be happier married than not.

Renewing her resolve to void the contract one way or another, Elsa studied her intended in-laws as they approached. King John was tall at nearly six feet of height, and although he carried a staff shaped not unlike a shepherd’s crook in one hand, he didn’t seem to actually use it for support, suggesting that it was pure affectation. His white-blonde hair was cropped shorter than the current style in Arendelle’s court, and he was clean shaven, which meant that either he preferred it as such, or he had taken pains with his appearance for this first meeting.

His wife, Queen Peri, was a dainty woman that barely topped five feet of height. Her white-blonde hair was swept back into a neat coiffure, save for one loose lock on either side of her face which had been styled to curve inward and frame her delicate jaw line. Her blue eyes were bright, startling Elsa somewhat with their brilliance as the Frosts paused in front of the dais, and she had a small snub of a nose that almost looked out of place with the rest of her facial features, but somehow managed to add to her charm.

Their son, Jack, sole heir to the throne of Celestine, approached last. He was tall, like his father, and lanky. Although his hair was cropped short like his father’s, several locks of it hung over his forehead in a manner that was not quite unkempt, emphasizing the dazzling ice blue eyes he had inherited from his mother. Elsa found it strangely appealing, and found herself staring for a moment before she collected herself.

“It is our pleasure to welcome you to our court,” Elsa said, resisting the urge to squirm in her throne as Jack scrutinized her in turn. “We urge you to make yourselves at home in Arendelle. If there is any hospitality we might offer during your stay to make you more comfortable, please let us know and we will give it due consideration.” _Polite, but not entirely welcoming,_ she congratulated herself, _without being outright insulting either_.

The elder Frosts’ facial expressions gave no trace of their thoughts away, but Elsa doubted, given their many years of dealing with court politics and diplomacy, that they had missed the subtext of her words. Their son, Jack, however, narrowed his crystalline eyes a fraction and peered at her with a speculative expression. He raked a thatch of white-blonde hair out of his face, and his expression settled into a knowing smirk.

Unsettled by his reaction and uncertain what to make of it, Elsa offered to have one of the servants show the Frosts to a set of suites that had been prepared for their visit. “I am sure you must be exhausted after the rigors of your journey,” she said solicitously, “and eager to have a proper rest in before the ball this evening. Our week-long solstice festival begins this eve, and as your arrival coincides with its commencement, we would be honored if you would join us in celebrating both occasions.”

_There_ , Elsa thought with glee. Polite, but distant again. She neither slighted them with the absence of a welcoming ball, nor did she give their arrival her undivided attention, but rather impressed upon them the precedence of her kingdom and her duties. And as she couldn’t have predicted the exact date of their arrival, they could hardly fault her for the fact that the ball must be both a dual celebration of the solstice as well as their arrival.

“Elsa, will you at least keep an open mind?” Anna begged again after the Frosts departed. “If you are genuinely not interested in marriage, I will support you in that.” She hesitated. “But I worry that your lack of interest in even the idea of marriage comes not from a free, considered decision, but from a lack of faith in love.”

“Anna,” Kristoff began warningly, breaking his silence. “I don’t think it’s a good–”

“No,” Elsa said shortly, glaring at her sister. “I want to hear what she has to say.”

Kristoff subsided with a sigh, muttering a familiar lament about how reindeer were better than people indeed, and certainly less complicated.

Her sister ignored him and gazed at Elsa sadly. “I will never believe that Mother and Father ever had anything but the best of intentions,” she began, “but well… They didn’t do either of us any favors in learning what love really is by isolating us from everyone, even each other. Especially you. Your whole life, you’ve absorbed this implicit message that using your magic was unacceptable–that you were somehow unacceptable–because they forced you to suppress an essential part of yourself.”

She sighed. Hadn’t they discussed all of this to death by now? “Get to the point, Anna,” she ordered.

“My point is this,” she cleared her throat, “Loneliness can be habit-forming. Make certain that your decision not to marry isn’t the result of misplaced, lingering self-condemnation.” She smiled crookedly. “You have shouldered enough loneliness, pain, and regret for several lifetimes. I want you to be happy.”

“Anna, I _am_ happy. I have you and Kristoff and your little one on the way. I don’t need anyone else to be happy.”

“Be that as it may,” she conceded with a smile, “at least think it over.” She looked over at her husband with a goofy grin. “Sometimes the things that make us the happiest are the ones we never anticipated.”

“I’ll take it under consideration,” she humored her sister. “Now, haven’t you an appointment with the physician right about–”

“Oh no!” Anna gasped, her eyes growing comically wide. “I can’t believe I forgot! Kristoff–”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you earlier, before you and Elsa started arguing,” he murmured to her as they swept out of the room.

“We weren’t arguing, we were discussing,” Elsa heard Anna answer primly before their voices faded away.

Elsa smiled to herself. “Good for you, Anna,” she chuckled. Sisters had to stick together. Look at all that had happened when they hadn’t. No matter what her sister thought, Elsa knew that as long as she had her family she would never lack for love or be lonely again.

  ****

* * *

The ballroom was sweltering. The doors leading to the garden had been propped open an hour prior to the event in order to air the space out and cool it down in anticipation for the celebration, but the endeavor had been in vain. Even with all of Elsa’s best efforts to control the climate with her ice magic, there were simply too many people, too much friction in one space, to keep the ballroom cooled off, winter or not. It was practically a full time job in itself to keep the glittering ice sculptures she’d created from dripping puddles all over the inlaid marble floor. The last thing Elsa needed was for a guest to slip in water and break an ankle–an ill omen for the start of the festival, not to mention utterly mortifying.

Under normal circumstances, Elsa found the routine of making such incessant rounds to check and restore her creations rather tedious. The Frosts’ presence this year, however, made Elsa grateful for the work. It gave her an excuse to avoid long periods of socialization, and therefore the opportunity for Jack to invite her to dance.

Or so she had hoped.

She had underestimated the Frosts. Rather than let themselves be put off by the dual nature of the ball, as she’d intended, they cleverly turned it into an opportunity for their son to pursue Elsa in a public and formal manner, thus sealing the idea of a marriage between Elsa and Jack in her subjects’ minds. She had already danced with Jack twice. The first time it had been for politeness’ sake. It wouldn’t do to be ungracious and publically humiliate her guests with the overt rejection of their son. The second time, Jack had ambushed her in a quieter corner of the ballroom while she fixed a large sculpture of a strutting peacock with its plumage on display, and she hadn’t been able to think of a polite way to excuse herself from the dance. But Elsa was determined that she wouldn’t be ensnared into accepting a _third_ dance–which it looked very much like Jack was about to request as he threaded his way toward her again through the crush of people.  

No. She simply could not endure another awkward dance with Jack’s bizarre questions and trivia about ice. Elsa didn’t know whether he genuinely thought that it was a topic of interest to her because of her magic, or whether he was simply as at a loss at what to discuss during the dance as she, but somehow the Frosts had learned of Elsa’s powers. And as they had not yet called off the marriage or fled in fear, Elsa had to abandon her plan to scare them off with her magic. Clearly, it wasn’t going to work. She hadn’t met anyone so obsessed with ice since Anna had first introduced her to Kristoff. And okay, it was charming in a weird kind of way coming from her brother-in-law– _she_ didn’t have to deal with it in the day to day scheme of things–but coming from a suitor? Intolerable. Even from an unwanted one.

So Elsa did the unthinkable and blindly pulled the nearest unattached male into a dance with her. “Smile,” she said brightly through gritted teeth as she forcefully swept him onto the dance floor.  "Pretend like you’re having the time of your life.“

"I pity the poor deluded fool that must pretend to enjoy your company.”

Elsa blinked, looking up at her dance partner properly. She didn’t have to tilt her head very far; they were almost perfectly matched in height. A pair of deep-set eyes peered at her with a mixture of amusement and curiosity, their hue a baffling shade of blue-grey that she couldn’t properly catalog, but which reminded her of the ocean during a storm. Curling brown hair framed a face that was quietly handsome but far from homely, and although his sideburns were neatly trimmed, he wore a light scruff of facial hair that could not be properly categorized as a beard, but which seemed at odds with the starched military regimentals that he wore.

“Thank you, Captain…?”

“Jones,” he supplied, twirling her with an ease that impressed Elsa despite herself. Jack had been more stiff, lacking the finesse and experience this man seemed to have. “Liam Jones. And might I have the pleasure of your acquaintance?”

“Elsa,” she supplied shortly. “As I was saying, Captain Jones, thank you, but flattery is unnecessary simply because I have required you to dance with me.”

His eyes locked with hers. Some of the amusement faded. “Flattery is my brother’s department,” he answered. “I speak the truth as I see it.”

She eyed him skeptically. “You mean to tell me you’ve never flattered a woman’s vanity–not once–in your entire life?”

“Flattered, no. Expressed my regard for a woman and complimented her charms, yes. And if you don’t know the difference, you haven’t yet had a suitor worth considering.”

“My considerations weren’t consulted when my betrothal contract was drawn up, I’m afraid.”

“Ah,” he said with a sober expression. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Not as sorry as I was.” She craned her neck over his shoulder a bit, scanning the crowd for Jack. Elsa knew that she couldn’t impose upon Captain Jones forever, but perhaps she could urge him to maneuver them toward the gardens. She could slip away for a reprieve until it was time to start the next part of the festivities.

“Would I be correct, then,” he said with a thoughtful expression, “in assuming that it is your intended bridegroom that you are avoiding during this dance with me?”

Elsa flushed at his directness.  "Yes,“ she admitted with a mixture of irritation and embarrassment. "I’m sorry, I didn’t think of what an inconvenience it might be to you–”

He laughed softly. “Don’t be. I am entirely gratified to be pulled into a dance with so lovely a lady as yourself. And I’ve no obligations to anyone here but my brother and my crew,” he informed her with an indolent smile.

His eyes locked with hers, and Elsa felt an odd flutter in her belly. Distracted by the sensation, she missed the next step and stumbled backward. He caught her around the waist in one swift motion and tilted her backwards in a sweeping dip as graceful and intentional as if nothing had been amiss to begin with. Elsa was impressed, once again, despite herself. “Thank you, Captain,” she said breathlessly as he lifted her back to her feet and steadied her. “I think–” She stepped back from him and tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear as the song ended. “I’m beginning to feel rather warm in here.”

“Would you allow me the honor of escorting you to the garden, my lady?” he inquired solicitously.

“No,” she said quickly, “I mean yes. That is…only for a few minutes. I must check on my sister soon.” What was the matter with her? Elsa wondered. The close press of the crowd must be affecting her more than she’d thought. Hadn’t she intended for Captain Jones to escort her to the garden for a respite from Jack’s attentions anyway?

She followed Liam out into the gardens. “This is better,” she said with a smile, breathing in the fresh air. “I’m sorry the gardens aren’t much to look at this time of year, but– Wait, what are you doing?” she protested, drawing back in confusion as Liam swiftly divested himself of his coat. Her eyes widened when she realized what he was doing. “Captain Jones, I thank you, but I’m not cold in the slightest.”

“Nonsense,” he insisted, holding the jacket up.

“No, you don’t understand,” she protested,  "You really don’t have to–“

"Don’t be absurd,” he told her. “Besides, what manner of gentleman would I be if I didn’t give a lady my jacket on such a cold evening?”

Elsa tilted her head. It was becoming increasingly apparent that her reputation had not preceded her in some quarters, at least. The man honestly seemed ignorant of her powers. Or perhaps he simply didn’t care. “Thank you, Captain,” she smiled, accepting the jacket with grace. “That is very kind of you.”

“So,” he said quietly, as he placed the jacket around her shoulders, “if you don’t mind my asking, is it the man himself that you object to marrying, or is it that the marriage was arranged against your wishes?”

“Both,” she said, turning down one of the garden paths. “Neither. You see, Captain, I have no intention of marrying _anyone_. Ever.”

“What an unfortunate resolution,” he mused, clasping his hands behind his back. Elsa turned to stare at him. “Considering the circumstances, I mean,” he explained. “It must be quite vexing to be forced into a situation that conflicts so greatly with your future plans. Killian and I are lucky–”

“Killian? Your brother?” she guessed.

He nodded. “Younger brother. As I was saying, Killian and I are lucky, in a way. There are no such expectations placed on us.”

“Why not?” she asked with interest. “Have the both of you determined you have no wish to marry anyone?” It was refreshing to think that Captain Jones might be a kindred spirit in that regard.

He shrugged. “Killian is still very young and idealistic. Perhaps one day he might meet a lass he wishes to commit his life to, but the only commitment I’d encourage him to make now is to his work. He still has a lot to learn about himself and the world. People change a lot at the stage he’s in. I’d hate to see him tie himself down to someone and regret it later, if they grew apart or she grew resentful of the kind of life we lead.”

“How do you mean?”

“It’s a life that breeds resentment and drives people apart more often than not. I’ve seen it with members of my crew. They’re forced to spend months apart from their own families for what often amounts to little pay, and when they return to shore for leave they find their wife or sweetheart has taken up with another man. Or maybe she’s tired of being neglected and raising children that don’t even recognize their own father, so she’s bitter and angry and doesn’t welcome you home so warmly anymore; it becomes miserable to be at home, and he sets sail again at the soonest opportunity, perpetuating the cycle of neglect and resentment that started it in the first place. It’s not a life I’d want for anyone I cared about. Especially my brother.”

“You care a lot about him, as I do my sister. You feel responsible for him.”  
  
“I do. We’re all we have left of our family. Our mother died when we were young, and our father abandoned us.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Elsa said truthfully. “Our parents also died when we were adolescents.”

She was debating on whether to tell Liam just how her parents had passed away when he said, “If your parents died such a long time ago, how is it that you are still bound to the marriage contract?”

“I didn’t know anything about it until last month.”

He stopped in his tracks and turned to stare at her. “How is that possible?”

She sighed. “Believe me, I’ve been asking myself that very question for weeks now. ”

“Is there no way to break the contract, since it was made without your consent and knowledge?”

“At the time it was drawn up, my parents had legal right to consent _for_ me,” she all but growled, “since I was not of legal age.” A quaint little Arendelle law that Elsa had every intention of changing just as soon as she managed to get herself out of this mess.

“But now you are,” he pointed out. “And your parents are deceased. Surely there’s a loophole in the law somewhere…”

“I’m looking into it,” she assured him, “but that takes time, and my initial plans for getting out of the contract fell through, so I–” Elsa broke off mid-sentence as an idea occurred to her. A terrible, brilliant, desperate idea. But she couldn’t pull it off alone. She would need a few conspirators.

“Captain Jones,” she began with a bright smile, “how do you feel about courting the Queen of Arendelle?”


	3. Chapter Two

 

Liam stared at the beautiful blonde woman in front of him, certain that he must have heard her wrong. Nothing in her stunning blue eyes suggested subterfuge, and yet he felt that she must be putting one over on him somehow. Hadn't she only moments ago been quite adamant about never wishing to marry? What was a courtship for but the chance to see if two people were compatible for marriage?

He wasn't naive. Liam knew that people married for money or power or a whole host of reasons other than love. But it simply wasn't within his personal code of honor to entertain such a notion. It was a resolution all the more strengthened by the slow and painful destruction of his own parents' marriage. No, if Liam Jones ever considered marriage, it would be for love.

"I beg your pardon," he apologized after several stunned moments of silence, "I must have misheard you. You said something about courtship?" he clarified.

"Oh, not a _real_ one," she hurried to explain, a rosy blush staining her pale cheeks.

Liam bit his lower lip at the sight. She was undeniably attractive; he could admit that much to himself. But Liam Jones had admired many a woman throughout his years as a sailor. That didn't mean he was willing to get involved with one, given the lifestyle he led. Oh, he'd _been_ with plenty of lasses, of course, but never anything serious that merited a commitment past his latest shore leave. Getting attached to any woman was simply out of the question.

"Oh? Are there any other kind?" he asked her with some amusement.

"You tease," she accused, her lower lip jutting out in the barest hint of a pout. Liam pulled at the collar of his uniform, shifting restlessly where he stood.

"Only a little. Now tell me, how does one court without really courting?"

"Why, you fake it of course!"

"I see," he nodded. "You want to deceive people in order to get out of your marriage contract."

"When you put it like that, you make it sound so cold-blooded and selfish," Elsa said with a guilty expression.

"Forgive me, I was rude,” he apologized with chagrin. “Sailors tend to be rather blunt and bold of speech. Believe me when I say that I cast no judgment upon you, Elsa, for your plan. I have seen enough of the world and of people to know that sometimes the path to victory must run crooked. And while I'm not generally in the habit of deception," he admitted, “neither am I in the habit of leaving a lady in the lurch when she requests my help.”

“Because it would be ungentlemanly?” she teased with a sparkle in her eyes.

“Something like that,” he replied with a smile.

“So you’ll help me?”

He tugged at his collar again. “Aye,” he answered, “I will. But I cannot lie to my brother. Have I your permission to tell him what’s really happening?”

“Can he keep a secret?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell him,” she agreed. “And I suppose I’ll have to tell Anna and Kristoff,” she said with a slight frown.

“Is there a problem with that?”

“Oh—no, not exactly. It’s just that Anna gets rather…enthusiastic sometimes. She might forget that it’s not real,” Elsa explained, her cheeks aflame with embarrassment. Liam shifted where he stood, inexplicably restless again. “But Kristoff’s a good influence on her, so maybe he’ll help keep her in check.”

“As she’s expecting a child, it may be that her mind will be too preoccupied with other things to pay much attention to our own affairs,” Liam mused. “Ah, so to speak,” he finished, clearing his throat.

She laughed. The sound was exquisite, and it made him think of crystals chiming against each other. “Oh, you don’t know my sister very well!”

“Perhaps not,” he conceded, clasping his hands together behind his back. “So tell me, in this charade of ours, won’t it be suspicious when they ask around and find that no one has any recollection of us together?”

 "I suppose we could pretend it was a secret courtship.”

He laughed. “You want us to pretend that our fake courtship is a secret courtship?”

“That sounded a little less ridiculous in my head,” she admitted with a grin, fidgeting with the tail end of her white-blonde braid. “But you understand what I mean.”

“I do.”

“So…if we’re going to do this, we should probably, ah, look comfortable with each other.”

“To raise suspicion and give people something to talk about?”

“Um, exactly,” she agreed.

“Well our little dance in there should work to our benefit,” Liam said after a moment of thought. “I’m afraid it will take quite a bit more than that, however, to convince anyone we’ve been secretly courting, much less your intended bridegroom and his parents.” He stepped considerably closer to her, his torso inches from her own. The scent of freesia and lilac filled his nostrils. Liam swallowed hard. It was all he could do not to close his eyes and bury his nose in the crook of her neck. He really needed to get laid again one of these days. This was going to be harder than he thought, if he had to constantly battle against his baser nature every time he was near her.

He reached out, with hands that trembled slightly, and laid on the curve of her shoulder.

Elsa’s eyes widened. “Liam?” she asked in confusion. “What are you doing?”

Skimming his fingertips up the curve of her neck, Liam reached forward with his other hand and cupped her face in his hands. “This.” He pressed his lips against hers with a gentle, questioning pressure. It was impertinent, he knew, and so utterly the very definition of bad form for a man of his rank to kiss a lady of good breeding, much less a queen. But the excitement that thrummed through his veins when she fumbled to return the kiss sent wicked thoughts reeling through his head, and he was tempted, oh so tempted, to part her lips and prolong the kiss.

Common sense prevailed soon enough, however, and Liam pulled back with reluctance. Clearing his throat, he ran and hand through his hair and tugged at the collar of his uniform. He _really_ needed to do something to take care of his primal urges. “How was that?” he asked.

“What?” Her eyelashes fluttered up and down several times.

“The kiss. How convincing was it for our purposes, do you think?”

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Um, fine.”

His nostrils flared. “Fine?” he asked with mild irritation, his pride pricked despite his best efforts to remain calm. “Only fine?”

“Ah, I mean it was good,” Elsa recovered, seeming to finally realize that she’d stepped in it. “Yes. Good.”

Liam ground his teeth together. “Good,” he huffed, drawing himself up to his full height. He reached for her before he could even think through the consequences, hands sliding around her waist and settling on her lower back. He pressed his body to hers, good form and protocol be damned, and backed her against a convenient tree, his mouth seeking to own hers. All pretensions melted away as Elsa responded in kind, and there were no longer any differences of rank between them as they explored each other’s mouths and measured each other’s responses; for several precious moments they were nothing more than a man and woman enjoying the pleasures they could bring out in each other.

His thoughts were in a muddled fog when they broke the kiss, and he would have been at a loss for words even if he had been able to catch his breath. Elsa didn’t appear to fare much better. Her hair was  mussed and filled with tiny bits of tree bark, her skin flushed pink with arousal as her bosom heaved, trying to fill her lungs with air. Liam closed his eyes, reciting the different ranks in the Royal Navy until he could think rationally again.

“That,” he said, opening his eyes again once he had collected himself, “is what a kiss is supposed to be, Your Majesty.” Elsa seemed at a loss for words, steadfastly avoiding his gaze. “And now that we’ve gotten that familiar, pretending anything else should be easy.”

“Right.” She bobbed her head up and down.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“No, it’s just, ah, we’ve been gone a while. I think perhaps it’s time I resumed my duties.”

“Of course,” he replied, “Would you do me the honor of letting me escort you back to the ballroom?”

“Aren’t you coming too?” she wondered, slipping out of his jacket. She folded it neatly, handing it back to him, and Liam received it with bemusement, not bothering to put it back on.

“I have a ship and a crew that will be settling in for the night,” he reminded her. “The men get rowdy and forget themselves as the night grows late. I like to be there to keep order and set a better example for Killian.”

“Then don’t let me detain you, Captain,” she smiled. “You should return to your brother. I can make my way back to the palace just fine from here.”

Liam offered her his arm in stubborn, silent disagreement. Elsa accepted with a sigh that was both amused and irritated. “If this is going to work,” he murmured to her as they walked back to the palace, “you really should call me Liam. We are,” he said, eyeing her sidelong, “rather more intimately acquainted by now than to stand on formalities.”

“All right, then,” she agreed as they paused near the opened doors that led back into the hot, noisy ballroom. She slipped her arm out of his and turned to face him, her face bathed a pale blue-white hue in the moonlight. “Goodnight. Liam.”

“Goodnight.” Liam reached for her hand. But instead of offering her a respectful kiss on the back of her hand as any gentleman would do, he found himself turning her arm over until her wrist was exposed to him. Trailing the fingertips of his other hand from her inner elbow to her wrist, he watched her shiver and then placed a whisper of a kiss on the inside of her wrist. “Elsa.”

Watching her disappear inside the palace, Liam let the breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding go. This was going to be an utter torment, he realized. Why on earth had he ever agreed to fake a courtship with this beautiful creature who was so firmly out of his league and off limits? Was he truly so desperate for affection and the feelings that a woman brought out in a man that he’d finally lost his mind? Something had to be done, just as soon as he and Killian finished their business here in Arendelle.

Assuming Elsa and his own idiocy weren’t the death of him first, that is.

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter Three

It took all of a few hours for Elsa to second guess her plan. By the time the ball wrapped up and she retired to her bedchamber, she had managed to work herself up into an internal frenzy of paranoia. What if no one believed she and Liam were a couple? Sure, they had shared a preliminary kiss or two (kisses that still made Elsa blush to think about, given her inexperience with men), but would it be enough? All it would take would be a few unanticipated questions and the whole charade would come unraveled the moment Elsa stuttered for an answer. The entire plan was foolish and utterly crazy. She couldn’t go through with it. She couldn’t let _him_ go through with it.

Removing the sleep mask from her eyes, she climbed out of bed. Needing an outlet for all of her restless energy, she began pacing the length of her bedchamber. She would simply have to find another way to break the contract. What on earth had even possessed her drag Liam Jones, a virtual stranger, into this mess? He had a brother and duties to his crew and his ship to contend with. He didn’t need Elsa diverting his attention from all of that and complicating his life further.

The more Elsa thought about what she was asking of Liam, the more determined she became to tell him that the whole thing was off. There were simply too many complications, too many variables that might go awry for it to ever really work, anyway. What if he received new orders amidst their plan? She couldn’t possibly ask him to stay and continue helping her with such a ruse. It would mean the end of his naval career. He would leave. He must. And it would be considerably more difficult to convince her purported in-laws-to-be of the seriousness of her relationship with Liam if he wasn’t even present. What was she supposed to do, then? Wave fake love letters she’d penned from Liam in front of their faces?

No, this simply wasn’t going to work.

 _I’ll tell him in the morning_ , she thought, _before I meet Anna and Kristoff for breakfast. I won’t even have to tell them a thing_. Relief swept through her at the decision, and she exhaled. Decision made, the tension ebbed out of her body by increments. Returning to her bed, Elsa settled within its comfortable depths, replacing her sleep mask, and finally allowed herself to drift off to sleep. And though she wouldn’t remember it upon waking in the morning, she dreamed of brown curls and a fire ignited by the firm, inviting press of Liam’s lips against hers.

* * *

A knock sounded on her door early the next morning. Elsa pulled the sleep mask from her face, feeling groggy and disoriented. “Come in,” she told the maid, rubbing her eyes with a yawn. One of the very few things she missed about her isolation was the opportunity to keep her own hours and sleep as much or as little as she wanted. The duties of a ruling queen, however, allowed for no such flexibility of schedule. Her mornings began at what Anna referred to as “a rude, uncivil hour” and permitted no opportunity to linger in warm beds, no matter how late she’d been up performing her queenly duties the night before, such as throwing balls to kick off Arendelle’s week long solstice celebration.

Her personal maid, Agathe, entered the room, issuing her usual chipper greeting. Elsa grunted something in response and rolled out of bed rather ungracefully, allowing Agathe to bundle her up in a dressing robe without protest. It felt strange to be waited upon, but Elsa had long ago given up _that_ fight. No matter how many times she had protested that it was unnecessary and that she had learned how to care for herself, her maid insisted that it was unseemly for a queen to wait upon herself. Elsa disagreed, but eventually she realized that she may as well let Agathe do her job or else dismiss her. And she couldn’t possibly bring herself to do that, for she knew that the wages Agathe sent home from her post at the palace allowed her family to keep a steady supply of food on the table during the leaner months of the year, or in the unfortunate event of crop failure.

“Your tea is ready in the next room, your Majesty,” Agathe informed her after Elsa cinched her robe shut. “Shall I have breakfast sent up, or will you be dining in the Great Hall this morning?”

“Well…” As much as Elsa was simply tempted to take her breakfast in her own quarters and soak in the silence before she faced the flurry of noise and activity that would bombard her once she stepped into her daily activities as queen, it would be impolite to dine in seclusion when she was hosting guests. And as much as she desired to send the Frosts on their way, she didn’t care to unduly offend them if she could avoid it.

A single sharp knock sounded, disrupting her musings.

“Who could be here at this hour?” Elsa wondered.

“I’ll go and see, your Majesty,” Agathe said. She started toward the door leading toward the drawing room to investigate, but the knock sounded again. And it had quite clearly come from the direction of one of the windows.

“What in the world…?” Had a bird flown into the window again? It must not be a terribly bright bird to repeat its mistake, she decided. Elsa marched over to the window, intent on helping the creature if she could. At the very least she might be able to redirect it before it sustained any lasting damage. Throwing back the heavy brocade curtains, she stumbled back with a startled cry. Liam Jones grinned at her through the clear paned window and gestured for her to open it.

Elsa complied with haste. “Captain Jones!” she hissed. “What are you doing outside my window? A couple of kisses do not give you carte blanche to come and go as you please! Certainly not through the window of my bedchamber!”

Liam climbed through the window with ease, smirking at her as he straightened to his full height. “Of course not,” he murmured, “but we’ll work our way up to that.”

“Oh you are impossible already!” she growled. Was it any wonder she’d never entangled herself in a relationship?

“Should I fetch the guards, your Majesty?” Agathe’s uncertain voice interrupted.

“No, don’t do that,” she decided. “Although you deserve it,” she told Liam, even as a smile lurked at the corner of her lips. “Now what in the world is so urgent that you had to climb in my window? And how did you get all the way up here anyway? It’s four stories from here to the ground!”

He shrugged, drawing Elsa’s eyes to the broad set of his shoulders. “I’m a sailor,” he explained. “If I can climb a ship’s mast without anything to aid me but a little rigging and my own limbs, scaling the palace walls is elementary.”

“That is hardly the point!” Elsa spluttered with as much dignity as she could muster. And it wasn’t much. Liam Jones, damn him, for all that she had known him for the space of mere hours, seemed a master at putting her off balance. It was irritating, really. “What on earth possessed you to do such a thing?”

He peered at Agathe in askance, raising his eyebrows in a silent question.

“She’ll not breathe a word of anything that is said in here,” Elsa reassured him. “You can trust her to keep our confidence.”

Agathe bobbed her head in agreement.

“Very well,” he said. “Then you should know that I apprised my brother of your plan last night.”

“Oh,” Elsa said awkwardly. So much for backing out of this harebrained scheme before either of their siblings got involved in it. “Well, about that…”

He raised an eyebrow. “Am I to take it that the plan is now off and I’ve climbed in your bedroom window to create rumor and scandal for nothing?”

Elsa felt foolish. “No, of course not,” she sighed. “It’s not as if I have a better plan to extricate myself from this impending marriage. But my brilliant idea seemed a lot less brilliant when I was trying to sleep last night. There are so many ways that it could go horribly wrong.”

“Killian and I came to the same conclusion when we discussed it. And that’s one of the reasons I sneaked in through your window this morning.”

“I’m sorry,” she shook her head, “I didn’t sleep well last night. I don’t follow.”

“Look, it’s going to seem odd and very convenient to claim a relationship with each other out of nowhere, given the Frosts’ recent arrival. Particularly since no one has seen us together much outside of a brief encounter at the ball last night. We need to lay some groundwork, start some rumors. It will make our story more believable when it becomes public knowledge.”

“So…you want to create the appearance of sneaking around to give credence to our story?”

“Precisely. Any other method of introducing the courtship would be too obvious and insulting to the Frosts. This way, you plead your very real ignorance of the marriage contract until recently, and pretend that our affair had been ongoing before you were apprised of the engagement.”

“Agathe, please set another place for tea in the sitting room.” She gazed at Liam as Agathe bustled off. “You’ll join me for my morning tea, won’t you, Captain Jones, so we can discuss this further?”

“I would be honored,” he answered with a charming smile, giving her a slight bow that, while formal, was not mocking in the slightest.

Elsa didn’t know what to make of that at all, so she simply swept past him into the sitting room, muttering to herself about men and wondering at her own sanity for agreeing to move forward with this plan after all. Seating herself at a small table, she placed a napkin in her lap and reached for one of the pastries on the tray while Agathe poured her tea. Liam seated himself across from her, following suit, and they spent the next several minutes in awkward silence, sipping tea and taking the edge off of their appetites.

“You’re right,” Elsa said, setting her tea down after a time. She patted her lips with her napkin daintily.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he said, cupping an ear with one hand. “I’m right?” He leaned back in his chair with an amused chuff. “Now that’s a first—a woman I’m courting admitting that I’m right about anything.”

Elsa glared at him in irritation.  “That’s because we’re not actually in a relationship,” she told him with mock sweetness.

“Perhaps,” he agreed with a sparkle in his blue eyes, but bor all intents and purposes we are. Just because we have no emotional ties to each other and aren’t planning to make it permanent is of little consequence.”

She reached for her tea again in an effort to remain calm, and took a large gulp that would have made her childhood etiquette instructor wince. “As I was saying,” she said when she’d finished her tea, “you’re right. We need to lay the proper groundwork for this relationship if we want it to appear legitimate. That means we need to get our story straight—not just between the two of us, but also with Killian, Anna, and Kristoff. What’s more, we need to be seen together more often, before we leak  the news of our supposed affair to the public. Not too often, or even much together, but we should appear at some of the same formal events and the like.”

“We need to be in each other’s presence,” he translated, “but in a subtle way that speaks to the truth of our secret relationship in the eyes of the public when it all comes out.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “And then, of course, we need to visit each other occasionally to give the appearance of sneaking around.”

“Elsa, we will be sneaking around,” he pointed out. “The motivations are irrelevant.”

“You know what I mean,” she sighed. “Must you correct everything I say?”

“My apologies, Your Majesty,” he said, hiding a smirk behind his tea cup. “But I think we need to be careful not to overdo any of this. Less is more. If I appear at too many formal events, it will make the believeability of our sneaking around for months less credible, unless we can come up with a logical way to explain my sudden frequent presence where you’re concerned.”

“Then we take advantage of the rumor mill for now,” she decided, “and begin there. Agathe can help. She’ll know just which servants to let things “slip” to. I suspect that before the day is over, many of those servants will have leaked the scandalous tale of my naval captain lover sneaking in my bedchamber window to their employers.”

“And what of the Frosts, do you think, when they hear these rumors?”

“It’s unfortunately not uncommon for those in arranged marriages to take lovers,” she shrugged, “so it’s doubtful that rumors alone will make them rethink the marriage contract. So far as they’re aware, I’m perfectly willing to marry their son for political purposes, and intend to discreetly carry on with my affair.”

“Then how do we drive them to break the contract?” he wondered.

“I think, Captain Jones,” Elsa said slowly, “that we’re going to have to present you as a genuine threat to the union between me and their son. I’m going to have to pretend to be quite hopelessly and recklessly besotted with you.”

 


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you to all my readers who have been ever so patiently awaiting this installment! This chapter gave me more problems than anticipated during the second half, but it’s here and hopefully it won’t disappoint!

 Liam Jones didn’t have much use for festivals in the normal scheme of things. As a sailor, he’d always been too far removed from the day-to-day workings of towns and villages to participate. He was out at sea the majority of the year, and even when they chanced to make port in places during a festival, he was too exhausted after a day of backbreaking work to spend much time at them. Consequently, it never occurred to Liam after he achieved the rank of captain to do anything during a festival other than catch up on sleep.

And he’d had every intention to keep to that tradition in Arendelle, except that he hadn’t counted on meeting its queen and pretending to court her.

“Killian, I need you to take something into town for me,” Liam told his younger brother while they dined in his cabin for breakfast one morning.

“What is it?” Blue eyes shone with curiosity as they peered up from a text he’d been studying.

Liam, not wanting to consign his brother to a naval career for all time just because he lacked other options, had made a point, many years ago, to see that his brother received an education while they were out at sea. Liam had chosen to enlist in the navy with an eye toward a long-term career in it; Killian had simply enlisted to stay with his brother.

“It’s a message for Elsa. Give it to the blond lad skulking around the royal stables with a reindeer. He’ll know what to do with it.”

Killian tucked the letter inside the jacket of his uniform. “You calling it off?”

“More like keeping my end of the bargain. Now finish your reading and eat. Shaw’s expecting you soon to go over a list of supplies he needs ordered in town.”

Muttering to himself about the convenience of needing to go into town on errands when Liam wanted to arrange to meet a girl, Killian finished his breakfast in reasonable enough order. “Shall I wait for a reply?” he asked, before setting off to fetch the list of materials from Shaw, the ship’s carpenter.

“No,” Liam decided after a moment of thought. There was no telling, with Elsa’s busy schedule, how long it would be before she found time and privacy to read it, much less write out a formal reply. Best not to make Killian wait for something that might not come. Liam would simply have to trust that she would receive his letter with enough notice to meet him tonight. It was a gamble, certainly, but there would be other opportunities. Although perhaps none quite so convenient as tonight, when most of the populace would be drinking warmed beverages and engaging in winter recreational sports. “That won’t be necessary.”

Issuing his brother a skeptical look, Killian left the cabin to find Shaw, and Liam returned to his normal duties. Or at least he tried. His brain seemed to lack its normal focus; no matter how hard he worked both himself and the crew for the rest of the day, a certain queen kept preoccupying his thoughts. After a while, Liam simply gave up fighting it—at which point he became downright irritable and difficult to be around. When Killian pointed out, under his breath, that most men became softer and more agreeable when they met a pretty woman, not sodding slave drivers, Liam decided enough was enough and banished the crew from the Jewel earlier than he’d planned. It was the least he could do, he knew, after what he’d just put them through. Perhaps a couple of extra hours in town before the festival would put everyone in better spirits.

And, not incidentally, give Liam more time to prepare.

By the time full darkness fell, he’d managed to prepare a simple meal. It wasn’t special, not anything like what she’d get in the palace, but Liam Jones knew a thing or two about women, even if he’d never formally courted one, and he firmly suspected that Elsa would appreciate the effort if not the execution of the meal. And if she didn’t manage to make it tonight, well, there was no great waste of expensive food that would be noticed by his crewman and lead to awkward questions.

Slipping on one of his nicer waistcoats, Liam buttoned it and peered at himself in the half-length mirror on the wall of his cabin. He adjusted the collar of his shirt, raking a hand through his brown curls in an attempt to tame them after a day spent in the wind and sun. His efforts made but little difference, and Liam shrugged to himself. It wasn’t as if this were dinner at her palace, he told himself. Or a real courtship.

“Hello?” a feminine voice said faintly. “Liam?”

He stepped out onto the main deck, smiling in welcome. “Elsa,” he said, walking over to meet her. “Welcome to the Jewel of the Realm. I wasn’t sure you would make it.”

“Neither was I,” she admitted, “but the opening ceremonies didn’t take long, and I got to spend some time with my people before Anna covered for me and faked illness, giving me an excuse to leave.”

“You weren’t kidding about her enthusiasm in helping,” he mused, eyeing Elsa sidelong as her eyes darted all over the ship, trying to take in everything all at once. She shivered, her expression faintly perturbed, and he drew closer to her, concerned. Why, by all the gods of wind and sea, hadn’t he thought to bring a jacket up on deck with him, so he could offer it to her? “We’ll have to find a proper way to thank her after all this is concluded.”

Elsa opened her mouth to reply just as a large wave crashed against the side of the ship, rocking her off balance. Liam caught her in his arms before she could fall forward on her face, and their bodies crushed against each other. Mumbling awkward apologies to him, Elsa attempted to extricate herself, and Liam inhaled sharply through his teeth as her chest and hips brushed against his. His body wakened with powerful arousal in response, and Liam suddenly felt like a schoolboy again, hoping the object of his infatuation didn’t notice the full effect she was having on him _. Don’t be ridiculous,_ he told himself as he waited for it to wane. Both of them were adults. It would only be awkward if they let it be awkward.

“It’s all right,” he assured her, as she stepped out of his arms, “you’ll get used to the ship’s movements and get your sea legs in no time.” He studied her expression for a moment. She looked disconcerted and uncertain, her eyes darting around the ship again as she took a few steps back, looking as if she wanted to hide. “Elsa!” he said, raising his voice to capture her attention.

Her head jerked up, and she blinked at him in confusion.

“It’s more than simply being unused to ships, isn’t it?” he asked quietly.

She nodded mutely, wrapping her arms around herself.

Liam processed that information, cursing to himself. He was so used to living on a ship that it simply hadn’t ever occurred to him whether or not Elsa might be comfortable on one. He felt like a heel. Didn’t a gentleman always consider the lady’s feelings first, ascertaining what she liked and felt comfortable with? Fake courtship or not, he should have given the location for their first evening together more careful consideration.

“How does your stomach feel?” he asked with concern. “Are you nauseous?”

“No, I—I feel fine,” she answered haltingly. “I’m just…I think I’d like to get out of the wind for a while, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” he answered, offering her his arm.

Elsa accepted it, and he carefully guided her across the deck to his quarters. Liam couldn’t help but notice that her grip on him was firm, almost desperate, and she leaned on him rather more than he might have expected. Helping her inside the cabin, Liam released her and pulled out a chair. Elsa sank into it with a grateful, relieved expression.

“I took the liberty of making us a late supper,” he said with a rueful nod at the simple fare on the table before her, “though I don’t know if you’ll feel up to eating any of it. I’m afraid I didn’t really think this evening through very well.”

She gave a short, breathless laugh. “Neither did I.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I got your letter, I didn’t think about what it might mean for me to be on a ship. I’ve never set foot on one before, as you’ve already surmised. And now I’ve simply made a mess of things.”

“Of course you haven’t,” he replied automatically, sitting down in the chair next to her. “But what _does_ it mean for you to be on a ship, if you don’t mind my asking?”

She slumped a little in her chair, looking tired and defeated. Liam, silently grateful that he’d thought to bring a bottle up from their stores in the cargo bay, poured her a glass of wine and handed it to her without a word. Elsa gulped the red liquid down, coughing afterward. “I’m sorry,” she said, when she was able to speak again. “I don’t usually drink so fast, but…” She set the glass down on the table, eyeing him with a confused, cautious expression.

“That’s all right, you don’t owe me any explanation,” Liam shook his head, “I was simply curious. However, if you need to talk, I’m here to listen.”  A mischievous smile spread across his face. “After all, if you can’t open up to your fake suitor, who can you open up to?”

Elsa’s answering smile was mildly exasperated, and Liam was oddly glad of it. It was far and away much better than seeing her so frightened and sad. Like any true gentleman, he’d never been able to ignore a woman in distress, or in need of any help. Perhaps that was why he’d agreed to the madness of this fake courtship. Yet ever since he’d agreed to the plan, he’d been plagued by the nagging sense that something was different this time. The notion made him restless, and Liam had assumed it was an attack of conscience over the sheer level of subterfuge he’d be participating in. Still, he’d given his word and Liam Jones never broke his word if he had any say in the matter.

Now, as he studied the disconsolate queen, Liam had the uncomfortable notion that the difference had nothing to do with simple gentlemanly comportment. Determined not to examine that too closely, he focused his energies on pouring Elsa another drink while she began to speak.

“I haven’t been queen for very long,” she revealed, “only a couple of years or so, and I still feel so inadequate to the role,” she confessed. “And I’m not good with people. You may as well know that at the outset. I’m too reserved, too…” She said the next word with pained, resentful emphasis, “… _cold_ with other people. Half a childhood spent learning protocol and diplomacy, and I still make mistakes and don’t know how to relate to people,” she finished bitterly, taking another long drink of her wine.

Her cheeks were flushed a becoming shade of pink, presumably from the combination of embarrassment and alcohol, but Liam only vaguely registered it as he stared at her with a puzzled frown. Elsa seemed remarkably strong and capable in her role as queen in the little he’d observed. And a woman capable of sweeping up to a total stranger and inciting him to dance with her certainly wasn’t so devoid of confidence as she presumed herself, surely. Or had Elsa simply been that desperate to avoid dancing with the Frost’s son, Jack?

“I would imagine your position as queen doesn’t help matters, either,” Liam reflected. “That’s the funny thing about rank: the higher it is, the more you feel obligated to hold yourself aloft so as to maintain order. But in so doing, you feel more isolated from people than ever.”

Elsa looked surprised, then embarrassed. “Yes, I suppose as Captain of a ship, you understand something of my plight. However…” She hesitated, her expression almost ashamed, before she said in a rush, “I have magic. Ice magic. Well, it isn’t limited _strictly_ to ice, I suppose. I can make cold breezes and frost things, so I suppose cold magic might be a better term for it, but that doesn’t sound half so nice, and anyway, I accidentally hurt Anna when we were kids, so my parents kept me away from everyone else, especially Anna, and I didn’t get a chance to socialize because they were afraid I couldn’t control my powers and I’d hurt someone else. And then my parents died out at sea when we were just kids, and I didn’t have _any_ one—”

“Elsa,” Liam said, laying a hand on one shoulder to capture her attention. “Slow down. Now what’s this you say about magic?”

She inhaled deeply, held her breath for two beats, then exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry. I—I don’t know what came over me…”

“Everything you’ve ever been put through, I’d wager,” Liam answered her sympathetically. He could certainly understand that. He was no stranger to an unconventional, somewhat troubled childhood himself. He had shouldered a lot himself, in his own upbringing of Killian and all the hardships they had weathered together. There had been nights, so many nights, where he had lain awake until nearly dawn, his own stomach gnawing with hunger because he’d given Killian his own meager ration of food, worrying about how he’d get through another day and where their next meal would come from. Or, if they failed to execute their duties to the captain’s satisfaction, whether there would be a meal that day at all. “Why don’t you start with this ice magic you mentioned? What can you do with it?”

“Well…” Elsa hovered her finger over the tabletop, then slowly traced a square in the air just above the surface. A sheet of ice, approximately half an inch thick, materialized in front of her. Curling her fingers, she scored the sheet of ice across once, then again from top to bottom, without actually touching her nails to the surface. Liam watched, entranced, as her fingers began to dance more in more intricate movements, too quick to follow.  One by one, gleaming, translucent chess pieces took shape, filling the board, and Liam held his breath in wonder.

“This is incredible,” he breathed, leaning forward to examine the pieces better when she finished. The detail on each of the pieces was phenomenal, he noted with awe. He could actually see the individual expressions on the faces of the regent pieces, and the tiny scales on the knights’ leaf-mail suits. Elsa hadn’t simply created a chess set, she had created an artistic masterpiece.

She blushed again, her eyes shifting away when he tried to meet her gaze.

“I mean it. You’re very gifted. And not just with magic. The artistry on these pieces is better than I’ve ever seen…” He paused, recalling the large ice sculptures at the ball where they had met. “The sculptures at the Solstice ball, you made them, too, didn’t you?”

“Thank you,” she said simply, still avoiding his gaze, “and yes, I did. But I didn’t always have the control I do now. In fact…” She bit her lip. “I didn’t use to have much at all. I was too afraid of myself, of my powers, and what I could do without even meaning to—like hurting Anna. So you can see why my childhood was lonely and lacking in the opportunities to develop much in the way of true social grace.”

“But you certainly have excellent control over your magic now,” he observed.

“Yes. That’s a story in itself, I’m afraid. But it brought Anna and me close again, and I’ll always be thankful for that.”

“And your parents passed away at sea, orphaning you and your sister before you were ever fully grown. No wonder ships make you nervous.” He shook his head with regret. “I’m sorry, Elsa. If I’d have known…”

“No, it’s all right,” she assured him. “I’ve lived too much of my life in fear and doubt, and after letting go of that, I promised myself I would never live that way again. I think… No, I _know_ I needed to come see your ship. Being here makes me anxious, it’s true, but it doesn’t have to keep being that way, do you see?”

“Perfectly,” he smiled, admiring her courage. Not everyone could find it in themselves to hold with such a philosophy, much less act on it. Nevertheless, Liam made a mental note to introduce Elsa very gradually to the Jewel and its inner workings.

“So,” she said with sparkling eyes and a nod at the chess board, “do you play?”

“I do,” he admitted, “but I’m afraid it’s been years since I’ve touched a board. I never had the leisure for it after my father left and my mother died.”

“I daresay I’m hardly a prodigy at it, myself, Captain. I so rarely had anyone to play against besides myself or my father.” Her happy expression faltered.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, just wishing my powers were a little bit different, right now,” she replied with the ghost of a smile. “I’m afraid we’ve let the meal you worked so hard to make for us grow cold.”

“It’s no trouble to re-heat it,” he said automatically.

“Oh, but it is,” she disagreed. “You’ll have to build a new fire and wait for everything to heat.”

“Nonsense, the hearth should still be warm, and we’re not cooking our food, just re-heating it; we won’t need to wait for full heat. It won’t take long at all to warm things back up.”

“Thank goodness,” she smiled with evident relief. “I didn’t want to trouble you, but I _am_ rather hungry. It’s one thing to frost a wine glass, or lower the temperature of a hot room, but forming and sculpting ice takes a lot more energy from me, and I’m always starving afterward.”

Thinking about the level of detail and sheer artistry she put into her sculptures, Liam could certainly understand that. He also thought he understood something of why she might take the time to refine her skill in sculpting in order to include such fine detail. It was a physical manifestation and reminder of how far she had come not only in the use of her magic, but of her emotional journey as well.

“Not a problem,” he assured her with a smile. “I have a teenage brother with a bottomless pit for a stomach, and the rest of the crew are hearty eaters themselves. There’s no use in standing on ceremony and starving yourself when you’re aboard the Jewel.”

Elsa’s shy, answering smile could have lit up his cabin by itself. “Thank you. Then as it’s really no trouble to reheat the food, I would be delighted to dine with you.”

“And I,” he said in a teasing tone, picking up their plates in order to take them to the galley and reheat their contents, “would be honored to lose a game of chess to you.”

* * *

Liam’s insistence that he was rusty at chess notwithstanding, the game ended up being a closer match than either of them anticipated. He put up a hell of a fight against Elsa, who played much better than she had let on. Liam teased her about hoodwinking him at first, but after seeing her react with genuine confusion, he realized that she truly thought she had no real aptitude for the game. Upon probing for more detail, Liam surmised that because Elsa had won the game so infrequently against her father, she had never really recognized the innate talent she had for the game, despite her admission that many of the games they’d played together had been close.

Smiling ruefully, Liam put forth his best effort, his pile of captured chess pieces growing at a steady pace that nearly matched Elsa’s own. So when he saw the opportunity to capture her queen and gain the advantage over her, after studying the board a long while, Liam decided to seize it.

 “Officer overtakes Queen,” he said, shifting his piece across the board and removing hers.

“Checkmate,” Elsa announced primly, moving her Marquess into a position that left Liam’s King trapped with nowhere else to go.

Liam gaped at her, then down at the board. Sure enough, he realized, Elsa had lured him into a trap—and a rather brilliant one at that. In moving his last Officer to capture the queen, he’d left his king

“Well,” he smiled, studying the board some more, and reviewing the course of their game in his head, “that was certainly educational. Fun, though.” Elsa blushed, looking pleased, and Liam began to pick up the pieces to put them away before he remembered that there was no place to store them.

“Here,” Elsa said, gathering up the pieces, “let me.” Gathering the pieces together, she laid them carefully on the board and stretched her hands out flat, hovering over them. Liam watched with fascination as the board and seemed to evaporate before his very eyes. “How did you do that?” he asked with genuine curiosity. “I thought you couldn’t heat anything.”

“I can’t,” she replied quite matter-of-factly.

“Then how did you make it evaporate?”

“I didn’t, not really,” Elsa answered with a shake of her head. “When I made the board and its pieces, I simply pulled the natural moistureout of the air in our environment and applied intense cold and pressure to them, solidifying them into the shapes I wanted.”

“So you just put that moisture back where it came from?” he guessed.

“Mm-hmm.” She gave him a thoughtful look. “You know, no one has ever bothered to ask about the way any of my magic works before, much less inferred anything about it. Not even Anna, which is odd because she’s normally so curious about everything.” Her expression became sad and troubled.

“Perhaps,” Liam said, standing up to stretch his stiff muscles, “Anna thinks that it will cause you pain or embarrassment by bringing it up.”

“That’s possible, I suppose,” Elsa said with a tired smile. “Thank you, Liam, for having me for a visit tonight

“It was my pleasure,” he assured her. Liam held out his hand in a silent offer of assistance, and Elsa accepted it easily, springing lightly to her feet. “I hope I haven’t kept you here too late,” he said, releasing her hand as he reached for his jacket and pulled it off of the peg on the wall. “Though I suppose if I did, that would work to our advantage in terms of spreading rumors about our illicit love affair,” he winked., settling his jacket about her shoulders.

“Illicit?” she sputtered in astonished amusement.

“Isn’t it?” he teased, settling his jacket about her shoulders. “A queen sneaking away from the palace and carrying on a love affair with a sea captain seems about as illicit as you can get.” ay. Still,

“I suppose when you put it that way...” Her eyes sparkled with good-natured amusement. Stretching up on to the tips of her toes, she brushed a kiss, feather-light, on his cheek.

He gazed down at her searchingly. “What was that for?”

“The jacket. I’ve told you before that the cold doesn’t bother me, and now you know why. But you gave it to me again anyway.”

“It’s partly habit, I suppose,” Liam admitted. “My mother always insisted that it was one’s behavior that made a person a gentleman or a lady, far more than breeding. And it seems to have stuck with me enough that I’m trying to impart those same values to Killian.” He paused, as a thought struck him. “Does it bother you?” Liam had never thought to ask such a thing before. But then, he’d never had a long-term relationship before, real or fake. And, of course, it was more than possible he’d simply been too much of a self-absorbed ass who was only affecting the airs of a gentleman, to ever consider such a thing.

“No,” she shook her head, “not at all. It’s sweet that you care enough to still make the gesture, even if though it isn’t really necessary.”

Liam nodded, but didn’t quite know what to say in reply. “I’ll escort you back to the palace,” he offered.

“Are you sure?” she said quickly. “It’s not such a long walk back to the palace. What if your crew return and don’t find you here?”

“Then they’ll probably think I’ve gone to one of the taverns for a pint,” he shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time. “Besides, Killian knows what’s going on, remember? He can direct the crew and oversee anything that needs to be done in my absence, if need be. It’s good for him to exercise some responsibility at this age. Keeps him from seeking out too much trouble in town.”

“All right, then,” she smiled, leading the way back up to the main deck. “I accept. Thank you. It will be nice to have some company on my walk back to the palace.”

They exited the ship together, and Elsa slipped her cool fingers into his as they stepped off the gangplank and onto the docks. Liam glanced down in surprise, but said nothing. He supposed it only made sense for them to hold hands at the very least, if they were supposed to be lovers. Although most people would be sleeping by now, or attending the late night festival, it didn’t follow that there was _no_ chance of anyone seeing them together.

They walked through the town of Arendelle in companionable silence, admiring the stars or the cast of moonlight against flower and tree. It was nice to simply be in someone’s presence without being required or pressured to speak, Liam realized. His days were filled with so much noise—shouted orders, the companionable singing among his sailors as they worked, the crash and boom of the sea, routine construction repairs… Liam had learned to cherish the somewhat quieter atmosphere of the Jewel late at night. But this, the total silence, was restful in a way that he had never realized he needed. Was it like this for Elsa, too, he wondered, whose days were probably just as busy and full of clamor?

“We should probably say goodbye here,” Liam spoke up, finally breaking the silence as they drew near the palace grounds. He paused near a cluster of large, sweet-smelling spruce trees and faced her. Elsa, still holding his hand, halted in her tracks.

“Here,” she said, slipping out of his naval jacket. She folded it carefully and presented it to him. “Thank you for a lovely, quiet evening, Liam.”

 “The pleasure was mine,” he replied with sincerity. A sudden impish spirit overtook him. “Shall I make plans for our next tête à tête, milady? Perhaps tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night is no good,” she shook her head. “I’m spending the evening with the Frosts. But I might be able to get away the night after. I’ll send word for you to join me, if I can get away.”

“Join you?” he echoed.

 “Let’s just say that I have a surprise for you next time we meet, Captain.”

“A surprise?”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Yes. There is someplace I want to take you. Oh, and Liam? When I send for you, dress warmly and bring a change of clothes.”

“I’m intrigued, Your Majesty,” he said with an arch of his brow. Lifting her hand, which was still clasped in his, Liam pressed a gentlemanly kiss to the back of it. “Goodnight, Elsa,” he said more informally. “Sleep well.”

“Goodnight,” she whispered, backing away as she released his hand. “I—” She seemed to hesitate. “You too.”

Liam stood in the shelter of the trees a while longer, watching her slim form grow smaller and smaller as she trekked back to the palace. It was only when he finally saw her cross the drawbridge and pass by the posted guards to enter the palace that he finally let himself turn away and head back to the Jewel. Circumstances being what they were, he could not simply escort her to the door like a proper gentleman, but he would certainly do what little he could to ensure that she got inside safely, nonetheless. Elsa was a nice lass, and she had been forced to grow up far too quickly, just and Killian and he had.

She hadn’t said as much, but reading between the lines of everything she had disclosed to him tonight, Elsa had never truly felt cared for by anyone. She’d been forced to keep her own parents and sister at a distance, emotionally if not physically, through the fear of her own magic that had been instilled in her. Letting herself lean on anyone else and share the weight of her burdens simply hadn’t been an option. And still, even now that she had control over her magic, and the relative freedom to do as she pleased and visit with whomever she wanted… Elsa seemed inclined to carry the weight of the world on her own shoulders.

Liam felt honored that she had shared anything at all of her troubles and personal history with him, and he hoped that he could be someone she might continue to lean on and share her troubles with.

The fact that one day he would leave Arendelle and their charade of a courtship would end wasn’t something Liam intended to examine.

Not just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: “Officer” and “Marquess” are alternative names or translations for the pieces Bishop and Rook, respectively, in case that confused anyone. So there’s your bit of chess trivia to impress others with! Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
